Exploring Consensual Reality

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Endless reserves of sincere affability….

“Forbid a man to think for himself or to act for himself
and you may add the joy of piracy and the zest of smuggling to his life.”

~~ Elbert Hubbard ~~

Gateway to adventure….

Hajime…. I write to stay sane. That isn’t to say I am, necessarily, but, I can honestly say I make a consistent effort to be so, even when there doesn’t really seem to be much point, since the world’s getting pretty fucking insane, anyway. But, to please my mother, who would have hated to see me a cold-blooded killer, I try each day to maintain a modicum of sanity. It doesn’t always work, but, since the primary goal is to avoid acting in a homicidal manner, I guess it works well enough…. Can’t rightly say that makes me particularly happy, as it would feel a damn sight better to just ace a couple of mundanes, and be done with it. But, I also like living without bars on my windows, and doors to which I don’t have a key….

Now that I’ve again established the basic parameters, I’ll confess to some rather nasty recent periods, in which I have successfully defeated a number of vicious demons, all of whom come to me gratis, simply because they can. I’ve been dealing with them for some years now, ever since realizing they were mine; for a long time, they seemed a gift from the gods, (yes, that’s sarcasm…), one over which I had no control. But, they’re all a product of my own inner turmoil, generated, like the Greek gods, right out of my own head. I guess 11.5 years of working in a virtual combat zone took its toll, without giving any receipt to track….

Most of the time, they lie dormant, biding their time, until they can spring forth, fully armed, to attack in a frenzy, at a moment when I am least prepared for dealing with them; I’m pretty sure they get leaked intel from Murphy, who monitors my activities, waiting with honed patience for just the right moment, when I am least mindful, and poorly prepared to deal with such issues. Go figure, eh?

Yes, I know, I know. They’re MY demons, and they’re, ultimately, under my control. And, yes, I also know they only come out when I tell them to, even if the telling is unconscious. Me & my unconscious have a long history of such arguments, but, then, I suppose that just makes me human, doesn’t it? Yes, it does. Since any further self-examination will turn maudlin, having first opened the doors with too much honesty, I’ll stop here, while I can still lay claim to a portion of the humanity I possess, by showing the compassion to cease and desist from further introspection. Besides, this intro is rapidly growing to a point of bloating, which could lead to gas. Can’t have that in these closed quarters, can we? No….

Right. We’re done, simply because I’m now out of standard BS, and would be forced to break into our reserves. Naturally, we keep plenty of THAT around, but, why waste it, when it will do more harm at another time? Hmm… I see I’m starting to go a bit wonky, so, let’s try an old trick. It’s pretty cool, and, more than that, will get us where we need to go. It looks just like this….

Shall we Pearl?….

“May you live all the days of your life.”

~~ Jonathan Swift — Polite Conversation, Dialogue ii ~~

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Image from MTV.com via Google Images

I’ve enjoyed the music this woman writes ever since hearing her for the first time, though I’ve never taken the time to really explore her work. I have a feeling, after listening to this, I’ll want to hear more… Enjoy!….

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Alanis Morrisette Live

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Premises, premises….

Tricked, I stumble, and I fall
dreaming, through an abandoned palace.
Frightened and wary, unheard my call
fading into memory, no cup, no argent chalice.

The people, crushed, cry out to be freed
asking only to take part, or travel.
Nascent oaths spotlight such bursting need
fed by treachery, deep from our well.

Only the wicked shall find their way blocked
justice seeks them, snug in their hole.
Faint praises never touched, but naked, stalked
singing no gospel, no soul, no rock and roll.

Only the promised will remember the way
from unforgiven trails of sorrow.
To live life, and give death no sway,
saving grace for our only tomorrow.

“I see my life go drifting like a river
From change to change; I have been many things –
A green drop in the surge, a gleam of light
Upon a sword, a fir tree on a hill,
An old slave grinding at a heavy quern,
A king sitting upon a chair of gold –
And all these things were wonderful and great;
But now I have grown nothing, knowing all.
Ah! Druid, Druid, how great webs of sorrow
Lay hidden in that small slate-coloured thing!”

~~ William Butler Yeats, “Fergus and the Druid” ~~

*******

“And, pray tell, whose imagination are you a figment of?”

~~ Solipsist Bee ~~

*******

“It is the little rift within the lute
That by and by will make the music mute,
And ever widening slowly silence all.”

~~ Alfred Tennyson — Idylls of the King, Merlin and Vivien ~~

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There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion.

~~ Sir Francis Bacon, Of Beauty ~~

*******

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question…
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

~~ T. S. Eliot, “Love song of J. Alfred Prufrock” ~~

*******

“Draw the curtain, the fraud is over.”

~~ François Rabelais, last words ~~

*******

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I can’t say why, but, I like it. To save myself, and y’all, any further embarrassment, which can build up angst as quickly as anger, we’ll take the money and run. Not that we made anything like a profit, but, I’d say we broke even. Can’t ask for better; not in this universe. I will take this moment to warn y’all…. I’ll be back. Take heed…. See ya…..

Y’all take care out there,
and May the Metaphorse be with you;
Blessed Be, dearest Carole, Mark,Theresa, & Richy
and everyone else, too…

When I works, I works hard.
When I sits, I sits loose.
When I thinks, I falls asleep.

LOL!! Love it… I’d join you, perhaps with a bit of Jameson’s, but, 0545 (0745 where you are…) is a little early for me. Maybe after breakfast…. 😉

I’m behind on reading Nadia’s posts, for the same reason related in my intro today, which also has kept me from a number of your’s; been battling demons a lot. For some reason, after posting, and maybe answering some emails, I seem to fade away, spending a lot of time trying to stay in balance, which, as you know, can be tough when PTSD is part of the mix….Oh, well, life goes on; I’ll catch up to her stuff today sometime; I also owe her an email…

You have a good one, too, bro; it’s cold & rainy here, & I must go out in it for a while… Then come home & recover… I’ll be by later, if I don’t fade again…

Aye, well, our generation is getting to the point where we’re starting to drop like flies in the cold… I like them, but, they were. IMHO, a bit esoteric for general consumption; too innovative in their music for the common taste, I think…. It’s tough for those who don’t know music well to appreciate true innovative genius….

Time marches on, no matter how we try to slow it down, doesn’t it?….SIGH

“Endless Reserves
of Affability”..
by gigoid..
and surELy
a place
that
comes
with Fearless
and Love too..
smARt of course2..:)

“Forbid a man to think for himself or to act for himself
and you may add the joy of piracy and the zest of smuggling to his life.”

~~ Elbert Hubbard ~~

By the book..
By the religion..
By the culture..
Buy the language..
And the rest is hiStory..
iN Patriarchal way and like
the Beatles sAid iN A SonG
somEwHeRe iN A
Sgt. Pepper
Album..
wHere
did
WiLL Go..
iN books.. iN religions..
iN cultures.. iN collecting
StanDard IQ INteLLigence…
Yes.. bOught by written language..:)

“I see my life go drifting like a river
From change to change; I have been many things –
A green drop in the surge, a gleam of light
Upon a sword, a fir tree on a hill,
An old slave grinding at a heavy quern,
A king sitting upon a chair of gold –
And all these things were wonderful and great;
But now I have grown nothing, knowing all.
Ah! Druid, Druid, how great webs of sorrow
Lay hidden in that small slate-coloured thing!”

~~ William Butler Yeats, “Fergus and the Druid” ~~

Even if one knoWs
a lot preTending
one kNows noThing iS nEw..:)

“And, pray tell, whose imagination are you a figment of?”

~~ Solipsist Bee ~~

It’S not tHat everYone
should thiNk liKe me..
iT is thaT
i Can and
WiLL thinK different..:)

“It is the little rift within the lute
That by and by will make the music mute,
And ever widening slowly silence all.”

~~ Alfred Tennyson — Idylls of the King, Merlin and Vivien ~~

Spaces between the notes..
Spaces between the read..
Spaces between space
thaT
sPaces
most beTween..:)

There is no excellent beauty
that hath not some strangeness in the proportion.

~~ Sir Francis Bacon, Of Beauty ~~

Spaces
betWeen
A new fronTier..
yes..out
oF jabber whacky..;)

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question…
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

~~ T. S. Eliot, “Love song of J. Alfred Prufrock” ~~

As alWays
juST do iT works..;)

“Draw the curtain, the fraud is over.”

~~ François Rabelais, last words ~~

Per the
Wizard of
Oz.. Trump
never went
bEhind A curtain too..
aS noW Monkeys Fly..;)